


Sùton

by Roxynme



Series: Descent [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Gen, Other, Prequel, Reader Insert, pregame, this will legitimately get dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 7,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28514247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roxynme/pseuds/Roxynme
Summary: 'Hello and welcome to the 53rd season of Danganronpa auditions! Please fill out the forms online and send them in, our team is searching for 14 new participants! We welcome all to try out, it won't be long before you're contacted if you've made it to the next stage in selection.'——————Being disgusted by something completely accepted and even praised is hard, and it’s even harder when you work with the company that creates that thing. But dealing with death constantly must give you some sort of resistance to it, except it never seems to work that way. And it’s just too bad you never felt the sùton descending.[NDRV3 reader insert, Scintilla prequel]
Series: Descent [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089341
Comments: 16
Kudos: 49





	1. Prologue

"I wonder what our past selves were like," Kaede ponders, tapping her nails along the cup in her hand, "It's weird to think that... I was someone completely different before we joined that game."

"Yeah... I'm still a little disturbed by the video they showed of me," Shuichi admits, running his hand down his face before taking a sip of coffee.

"At least you _got_ your video shown," Kokichi huffs in indignation, "I don't even know what I said in my audition! How _boring_."

"Hmph, well does it mater?" Tenko collapses into the seat beside him, placing her drink down and then leaning back in the chair. She sighs deep and wistfully, "My past self... I bet she hated males just as much!"

"I thought you started to... not mind us?" Shuichi asks, then downs the rest of his coffee and sinks into the seat.

"..." Tenko makes a funny expression, then leans forward and rests her chin in her palm, "Some of you aren't _quite_ so bad, but you have to keep yourselves to my standards." She sniffs, "Otherwise I'll be forced to put you in the correct place."

She reaches for her drink and Kokichi stands up abruptly, spriting from the room. Kaede watches his figure, then her eyes dart to the cup pressed to Tenko's lips, as she tips it back to drink, Kaede lurches forward and tries to take it, exclaiming in panic.

"NO!" she shouts just for Tenko to spit the drink and cough haggardly.

"He... He is... the most _despicable_..." Tenko seethes, standing up slowly with her face contorted in fury, "person... I have _ever_ laid my eyes on."

Then she screams a war cry, off down the hallway the purple-haired villain disappeared into. Kaede blinks, her face twisting in disgust at the small droplets on her sleeve and hand.

Shuichi laughs softly beside her, offering a pile of napkins.

"I wonder... if those two hated each other as much before." She breathes, sitting back in the chair and accepting the napkins.

Shuichi shrugs, "I don't think we'll ever truly know." Then he gazes around the room of white, nothing but a few other tables and chairs in sight. On the far end is where they received the drinks, nobody else but the two of them in sight. He sighs, "I wonder how long it'll be until we're discharged from this place,"

Kaede hums in agreement, drumming her fingers on the table now that she's cleaned herself up. "Yeah... It's been a couple days now, hasn't it? Weren't we supposed to be given some information about... schedules or whatever?"

Shuichi shuts his eyes, "Yeah..."

The whole building has this... atmosphere. In no way would it be described as creepy, but there’s definitely something wrong about it. It feels like everyone is tense and on edge, just waiting for an accident to be made. At the same time, that restlessness is not something normal for those working here. Shuichi can see it in their eyes that flicker in anxiety. They were used of another way of proceeding, and now it’s been changed and they’re struggling to cope with it.

The four survivors all know it’s because of them. That much was as obvious as it can possibly get. People give them odd looks, then move their eyes away before they can notice. _But they do._

“I’m sick of feeling like I’ve done something wrong.” Kaede groans, stretching out her arms and legs, “I feel as if we’ve broken a law or... Just... I don’t know!” she throws her arms in frustration, “Why are we being treated like this?”

Shuichi mulls the question for a moment, “We don’t know anything, at all. We woke up in a strange place and were forced into a killing game, which we ended.” He hums quietly, “Now we woke up here and none of our questions have been answered... Along with the strangeness of it all, now we’re being treated differently.”

Kaede flicks a strand of hair from her face, crossing her arms and pushing her bottom lip out. She leans her head back and stares at the ceiling, “So, as per usual there’s secrets that we have to solve here.” She shakes her hands in exaggerated excitement, “ _Yaaaaay_! More mysteries.”

Shuichi smiles lightly, “More mysteries.” He agrees, “I should be happy about it. But I just... can’t seem to find any enthusiasm at all.”

Kaede lifts her hands up, staring down at her fingers which she wiggles, “I... Don’t even feel like playing piano since we woke up. I don’t get it at all.” She scrunches her eyebrows, “There’s no pianos here, but even if there were... I couldn’t find it in myself to start playing.”

Shuichi frowns, then stands up and smoothes out his shirt, “Well, should we make sure the other two aren’t lost?”

Kaede pushes the chair out and bounces up, pumping her arms, “Yeah! I can get behind some physical activity! My legs and arms feel heavy since we... uh, got here.” She blows her cheeks out and rubs her forehead, “I’m sick of saying ‘ _since we woke up here_ ’, and I’ve only said it like... _twice_!”

Shuichi laughs, nodding.

Swapping her feet as she stands there, Kaede lifts an arm up, “Lets _goooo_!”

Then she grabs Shuichi’s hand, and tugs him along towards the hallway. Stumbling, but picking himself up quickly, Shuichi continues to smile despite himself as Kaede giggles. Without hesitating, she takes a left at the corner, exclaiming about how there’s no time to wait and decide.

They run down the corridors, Kaede waving each time they see someone. Up ahead, a door pops open and Kokichi darts out, signalling for them to stop. They slow, and pant while waiting for him to speak, instead he ushers them onto the dark room. Once inside, he closes the door and it turns pitch black.

“ _Wh_ -what the hell, Kokichi?” Kaede huffs, squeezing Shuichi’s hand.

“ _Shh! She might hear you_.” He hisses, seeming close yet distant, “ _It took way too long to lose her just for her to find me._ ”

“Ah,” Kaede muses, grinning.

“...Why did you bring _us_ in here then?” Shuichi asks.

“I dunno, made things more exciting.” Kokichi must shrug, because they can hear it in his nonchalantness, “Anyway, it’s too dark in here. Lets go!”

The door swings open, and Kokichi’s figure stands there as he walks out into the hallway. Kaede rolls her eyes, then the two exit after him.

And Tenko springs forth, clamping her hands down on Kokichi’s shoulders. He screeches and Kaede cringes, trying to cover her ears. Instead of murdering him right there, Tenko stares at him then over to Kaede and Shuichi with an intense grimace.

“I’ve got news,” she says, “about why we’re here.”


	2. I

**May 13th**

**5:09pm**

**It's Friday. I'd say this week flew past, but it didn't, so that would be a lie. Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like to have an easier job, but this one provides some benefits.**

[A pencil taps on the table, rythmic]

**I'm not sure what else to say, but now that this season has ended it's yet to announced whether there'll be another. I'm assuming so, since two survived. I can't remember their names, but it's a green haired male and blue haired woman.**

**... Emiko mentioned how much she loved the show again yesterday.**

[A deep exhale]

**I don't know what she sees in it. Everyone enters just to die or become famous. They really don't understand just how horrible it is. Because you don't remember your old life and they give you a reason to live. Since we have to 'promote hope and despairs terribleness'. It's stupid. Just let the participants stay the same for a change, wouldn't that make things interesting?**

**But like I quoted, we have to give the audience hope and these kids that enter don't have any hope. So really it'd probably just lead to despair.**

[Shuffling]

**I don't understand why they all join. They're all idiots, who'd willingly sign up for a death game?**

**...I'd never**

[Pen clatters onto table, a chair grates against the floor]

[Incomprehensible]


	3. o n e

a tired sigh escapes your lips. then a yawn jumps up, hoping to happen but you bite down and stop it. the wind is cold, trying to bite your skin through your clothes. it can't get through, but your bare hands and face are left at its mercy.

really, it is so cold.

the door slides open, sensing your approaching presence. as you enter you slip off your shoes and jacket, placing them off to the side where everyone else has.

"Good morning!" the receptionist calls, a welcoming smile on her lips. "Please do your best today!"

you nod, giving her acknowledgment. the door to the recording studio is open, and you approach with a frown. then once you're inside, you make sure to shut it loudly, giving everyone in the room a fright as they shout apologies.

"Um Good morning (Name)!" he offers you a mug, which you frown at and his eyes widen. " _I_ -I just thought since it was cold and-"

giving him a half-grimace-half-smile you accept it, bringing it to your mouth. Thankful it's coffee. you swallow, feeling the warm liquid enter your body. caffine takes a while to actually affect your brain, but with such a bitter, strong serving you can only hope it'll last longer than normal.

recently caffine hasn't been affecting you very much. Maybe you drank too much and have become used to it?

"where are they?"

" _r_ -right!" he stammers, running over to his desk and flipping on a switch. the large screen at the front of the room splits, two seperate displays being shown.

you take another sip of coffee.

in one, a green haired figure is sitting on the bed, hunched over with his head in his hands. maybe he's crying. you don't know. your first rule is to never switch the audio on unless _absolutely_ _necessary_.

on the other, long blue hair falls around a figure who rocks back and forth on the floor, lips moving and eyes open but hollow and unseeing.

something burns in your chest, and with disgust you place a hand over it, before realising it's heartburn from drinking something acidic too fast.

it isn't guilt. is that a Good or Bad thing?


	4. II

**May 20th**

**1:23am**

**I can't sleep.**

**I had to stay late at the studio, the trailer and audion acception video for 'V3' (as every seems to have taken to calling it) was controversial amongst the whole building. Some said it was too dark, others said it was nothing compared to season 5.**

**It isn't often that nobody survives, so I suppose that's why season 5 is held with many mixed emotions.**

["___?"]

**Why is she awake?**

[Pen is placed gently on the table, soft tapping of feet padding across the floor]

["____."]


	5. t w o

you rest your head on a hand, elbow placed on the table. the papers scattered across the room don't just settle on the counters, but also on the floor and chairs.

your eyes trace over the words written on them. then blankly you close them, sighing and dropping your hand.

you stand up, fingers sliding across one sheet. you pull it towards you, holding it with two fingers and walk to the door. when you open it, he stands there with a nervous expression.

" _di_ -id you decide?"

you hold the paper in your hand, glancing over to the clock on the wall.

he takes it, beaming, "alright! i'll inform everyone!"

with nothing said, you silently walk away. he fiddles with the many folders in his hands, trying to sort through them all with no sucess. a gasp and a faint ' _thump_ ' make you halt, turning back and leaning over, starting to pick every single thing he dropped up.

"It's _o_ -okay! You don't have to concern

yourself with my _fail_...failure!"

he tries to bend over, but then exclaims as the few things he managed to keep in his grasp slip, and he quickly readjusts them. a moment longer and they would've been covering the floor, too.

you right yourself, having finished picking it all up. he sniffs, looking down.

ignoring that, you walk away, then stop and

"come on. we need to get this confirmed."


	6. III

**May 21st**

**1:20am**

**The trailer was released to the public. We already have a hundered audition entries.**

**This is ridiculous.**

[A sigh]

**Due to 52's huge popularity, we're being flooded by the fans. As a result, the expected preparation time is going to be extended to process everything. Generally we get through two seasons a year, but with season 52 finishing recently and much faster than we anticipated, we haven't had much time to think ahead. Now we're just lying and saying season 53 will be even better so that we have more time.**

**January 1st. What a short time away.**


	7. t h r e e

the footpath is slippery, lined with snow that refuses to melt even as the weather warms up. it contiues to prick at your skin, trying its very best to find a way to affect you.

you refuse to shiver.

the sliding door halts as you approach, before it opens slowly. snow must be clogging its hinges. as you enter, the wind follows and blows any light, loose items around which earns some groans and exclamations of surprise.

your eyes gaze around the room, stopping to stand right where the door's sensors begin. so the door remains open, wind gusting in with ferocity.

"if this is how disorganised we really are..." you walk forwards, dropping the jacket off your shoulder. "how can we keep up our image?"

The door shuts. and everything drops to the ground and you fold your jacket over your arm, closing your eyes as you walk to the recording room.

"U-uhm-!" He cringes, "I'm very sorry! I didn't realise you were here and I thought you weren't coming in today and I'm so sorry! But i ju-"

"be quiet." you turn away from him and give the receptionist an icy glare as she shivers under your gaze.

"Im sorry (Name)...!" she fumbles with her papers, "I was reorganising everything and

i didn't expect the wind to be so blustery-!"

"did i Ask you to reorganise everything?"


	8. IV

**May 21st**

**2:18am**

**It's so quiet at home when Emiko isn't here. Of course it's silent now, considering the time.**

**We haven't gotten a message from mom in a week. She said she'd be taking some time off work soon, to spend time with us. But I'm not sure if that's true. I know she needs a break, but...**

[Door creaking]

[Incomprehensible]

**I must be keeping her up.**


	9. f o u r

fingers tap along the table, quiet noises and hushed voices.

[" _did they sign the re-particpation agreement_?"]

[" _Yes_."]

indignant and irritated, you run your hand over your face. how can anyone in their right mind join this game, _let alone_ be fully prepared to join _another_ if they happen to survive? shouldn't they want to see what remains of their family and friends? recieve therapy and try to regain some semblance of a normal life again?

but really, you suppose, if they joined in the first place then its unlikely they have the option to find their loved ones.

at least _your_ life isn't like that. you'll never join this forsaken game. never never never never never.

your eyes trace the faces of the two figures. the boy is now leaning against the wall that

his bed is pushed against. his head is tilted upwards, but eyes closed and very much unseeing.

( _you wonder if he can recall the game memories)?_

the girl smashed her glasses long ago, and even though she's been given new pairs she destroys those too. at the moment she's screaming at nobody in particular, and as she continues her voice slowly begins to turn into a croak.

( _you wonder what shes's feeling_ )?

[" _So... we need fourteen more participants_?"]

[" _yep. a few less than normal_."]

you close your eyes.


	10. V

**May 29th**

**10:40pm**

[idle pen tapping against the table, quiet deep breathes and a covered yawn]

**I don't know why I'm writing right now. Which is why I'm struggling to write anything at all.**

**Maybe I should just quit. I wonder if that would change anything. These people who keep auditioning are... interesting. Well, we haven't actually begun the in-person interviews yet. But the application have a few eccentric writers.**

**I read one yesterday, it went along the lines of: "a killing game would be perfect. since humanity is hopeless anyway."**

**I'm... not sure what that means. Humans may be self-destructive and selfish but does that mean I'll join a game where I have to kill someone? Because I'm sure I'd be forced into that predicament somehow. Of course I'd try to get out of it, but it just... No.**

**Survivor? No, if I joined I'm assuming there'd be nothing for me to return to, so I'd definitely make sure to die.**

**Mastermind? Ah, they always have interesting perks but I don't want to just copy some basic and repeated story of 'ahahah despair makes me feel so much!'**

**Because despair makes me feel nothing. Hope makes me feel nothing. I feel nothing.**

**I'm just rambling now, where did my lack of words go? Well, while I'm at it we can discuss the last option: victim. That could also work, I guess. Well, it also makes sense. That way I wouldn't have to deal with guilt and upsetting anyone.**

**Yes, being a victim would be the best for me.**


	11. f i v e

with a dissatisfied sigh, you rub your forehead and allow your hand holding the pen to drop to the table. you pick it up, holding it straighten in the air.

"What on earth is this?"

"what do you mean?" she gives you a peculiar look, an agitated flash of indignation splashing across her face for a mere few seconds.

you narrow your eyes, "you heard me. I will not repeat it."

"it's an audition sheet?"

recently, she'd been promoted and with that it brought her ego up. from an anxious to please receptionist to a cocky assistant.

But that's the problem. let her be cocky, let her be anxious, let her be whatever she is. but she's your assistant, thats the problem right there. she is suppose to help you, not fire smart comments back to each of your inquiries.

"it's a displeasure to simply be reading it." you place it back on the table, sliding it across to her.

she takes it and her eyes trace the words.

"do all these people join just to win? and by killing everyone, at that."with a tired sigh, you lower your hand and pinch the bridge of your nose. "i read someone wants to get the Ultimate of Detective. I guess they don't understand how much work it is for people to have those types of talents."

"so?" she drops the paper, holding her hand out as she regards you in frustration. "just get it sorted. we're here to _help_ them, after all."

you furrow your eyebrows "' _Help_ '? we aren't _helping_ these kids, we're hurting them by promoting such a violent game and pretending everything is for fun."

"stop thinking so deeply about it."

you stand up abruptly, "maybe you should actually consider what it means. they have nothing to live for, in their minds. isn't that concerning to you at _all_?"

she rolls her eyes, resting her cheek in her hand. "No? It's their own decision." her lip curls as she gives you a disgusted look, "and stop calling them _kids_. they're legal adults, probably the same age as _you_. it just doesn't sit right with me."


	12. s i x

there's a faint chiming noise, echoing throughout the whole house. yet, it barely registers against the irritating thoughts your mind produces. your mind won't stop, it just asks question after question, repeating them as if you know the answers.

but you don't ( _and never will_ ).

"Can you take me one day?"

a disgruntled sigh jumps from your mouth before you can stop it. as her eyes remain wide and unblinking, gazing right into yours but now with that same frustration they always seem to don whenever you reply to her requests. you just want her to understand, to figure out what's wrong with that show and that place and _everyone_ who has **anything** to do with it ( _including you_ _?_ ).

"Emiko..."

she shifts her eyes away, her shoulders sagging as she allows her eyelids to drop down, shutting herself off and away from your words, again.

"don't start off with my name in such a sad tone, i get it, alright? I get it. you'll never let me come." she moves to stand up, muscles tense and rigid from agitation, her actions abrupt and thoughtless. she wants to get away, away from _you_.

"it's not that I want you to miss out on your favourite show and having fun... I just don't want you to be let down."

she stops, her brows creasing. then she opens her eyes and gives you a indescribable look, "i don't care if i get let down. just take me."

as you both regard each other in thought, consideration and all those calculating feelings, you shake your head, "i'm sorry, no."

and she kicks the chair out from the table, immediately standing up and walking away.


	13. VII

**why do i always feelso weird ?**


	14. s e v e n

_isn't 'feeling' a normal thing_ , you wonder aa you shut your eyes and straighten your posture, _it is, right?_

The window is tinted so that nobody can see inside, but whoever is in the building has a perfect, unobstructed view out. Unless of course, some insistent fan is determined to destroy any meagre enjoyment you'll gain from looking outside. Most give up after they find out the building is actually Danganronpa headquarters and that they can get fined ( _amongst..._ other _things_ ) for loitering or attempting to enter private property

as one of them looks inside right now, a curious yet cautious expression settled on their face. the beginnings of wrinkles already forming on their forehead tells you everything you need to know as you stand up, silently walking over to the window.

fingers easing beneath the latches that keep it locked and closed, you wedge your nails beneath the windows ridge and lift it upwards.

The kid stumbles away, eyes wide as they try to catch themself but end up falling to the floor. He(?) looks at you fearfully, his lip trembling as he gulps. His whole body begins to shake, a steady rythm of movement that courses through his body as if he were covered in snow.

but he's not. unless it's just because of _you_.

"I-I'm so sorry! I pr-promise i'll _never_ d-d..." he clenches his fists, looking at himself in shame before bringing his eyes back up to yours, tears collecting in them, "I won't do it agai-!"

"what are you doing?"

he flinches.

you stare.

"um... i was hoping to try to find out where i had to... erm... a-audition,"

with a blank look you lean back on your heels, looking over his small figure that is a startling contrast to the vibrancy of the grass beneath him. The sky is blue and clear from clouds, a faint breeze rustling through the trees but barely audible. the day looks lovely, beautiful.

"you can enter an application online, please make sure to fill in all the answers."

you reach up and grab the window, ready to pull it down and shut it. you really doubt this meek boy will return to bother you any more.

"but... but i've recieved my confirmation that i'm moving onto in-person auditions!"

your movements cease.


	15. VII (revision)

**why do i always feelso weird ?**

**July 5th**

**1:23am**

**I don't know when I wrote this past entrance, but it feels too short to remain there without anything else to accompany it. Why did I not capitalise my words? Why is 'feel so' one word?**

[unscrewing cap]

[pen scratching, tongue clicks in agitation]

𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒅𝒐 𝑰 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒔𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒅 **?**

[a quiet sigh]

**Well, I can't fix it with liquid paper since the pen doesn't work properly.**

**...I suppose I can't fix myself either.**

[chair grates against the floor]

[footsteps, moving away]

[hesitant return, pen cluttering to the table]

["damn."]

**I forgot.**

**The next part of the auditions have begun, and I was not informed.**


	16. s e v    e n (??.)

He stares at you, chest slowly speeding up as he waits for you to respond. if you focus on his face, it's easy to see his lip still trembling; _anxious_. Then by moving your eyes down to his hands that lay amongst the thick grass, they too, are twitching.

with a deep exhale and an indifferent nod towards him, you pull the window shut.

if you had've been watching, you would've seen him flinch away from the noise, both eyes shutting as he clenches his jaw. but once it's silent, he opens an eye and gradually... _gradually_ stands back up.

you're already a metre away when there's a tap. then another. and another. tenative but determined.

its your turn to shut your eyes, lips straight in a line as you stand there, motionless. then with an agitated spin of your heel, you move back to the window and fling it open, leaning forwards as he stumbles in shock.

his eyes are a dazzling purple, deep and dark and mysterious. and they're wide open as he peers into your own, mouth hanging down.

"you are _trespassing_."

"b-but i want to know... where i have to go!"

"i could call security."

"why?"

"because your actions are interfering with my work. please leave the premises.'

"why sh-should i?"

"because i will call security."

"and then what? they'll throw a kid— _me_ in prison?" he fires back, only just leaning away now.

"you're _not_ a kid."

"and yet you th-thought i was when you first saw me!" he defiantly crosses his arms, turning his cheek away from you. and its then you notice a bandage that spans across that whole side of his face.

"why would i think that?"

"because _everyone_ does."

"i'll ask you once more; _leave_."

"can't you just help me?"

a silent click of your tongue, you roll back your shoulders and grimace.

would he leave even _if_ you called security? something about the boy makes you feel as if he's had enough run is with bullies or... _others_ similar to know how to slink back to wherever he needs to be.

but if you called security he would no longer be your problem ( _he would_ ).

"oh my, a trespasser?"

fast footsteps to your left, your receptionist—no, _assistant,_ appearing by your side with a bemused expression.

she sweeps her eyes over him once, then turns to you.

"i am so sorry. i'll be sure to stop any more people from bothering you."

and she slams the window shut, never once looking away. then once her deed is done, she struts away, heels clicking against the tiled floor.

one glance at the window, the boy can be seen running, tripping but recovering to turn down a corner. and it makes you wonder...

Shaking your head in frustration over your own thoughts, you force yourself away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd we finally meet someone !
> 
> I want to mention that since this is pre-game, it is my own headcanon(s)! You may not agree with them, so please don’t yell at me-


	17. VIII

**July 16th**

**12:01am**

**That boy... He wanted to be in the game. Why would he want to be in the game?**

**It's obvious, I suppose. The bandage on his cheek. It was scruffy, blotched with dirt and covered in grime; self-applied. Sloppily at that. I can conclude two things from that:**

**1) He had nobody to put it on for him, therefore he had to do it himself.**

**2) Someone caused that injury. I suppose he could have just cut himself on something, or it was self-inflicted.**

**So, he wants an easy escape from his life.**

**Really? Is he really relying on something like this to get away? Everyone else is just like him, or they just want the fame.**

**Of the two options, which do I prefer? Oh, is it possible to decide between two bad things?**


	18. e i g h t

"Aah oh my gosh!"

She comes traipsing into the room, a gleeful smile on her face, she beams at you with sparkles filling the air around her joyful expression. Without meaning to, your lips slip upwards into a smile that mirrows her own.

She jumps right onto the couch beside you, then inches closer and peers deeply into your eyes.

"You didn't tell me the auditions were open!"

instantly, the smile flickers and dies. and as she sees your expression turn sour, she only crawls closer with her eyes dancing in recognition, _hope_ and annoyance. All those things mixing into something that continually pesters you forever and ever and always.

"they're not,"

her lips twitch, but hold firm, "Yes they are! It says so on the _freakin_ ' trailer and website _and_ it's pasted all over the internet!"

she leans back and throws her arms up into the air as she gazes at the ceiling as if it's splendor and glory and all wonder wrapped into one. you suppose that must be how she views your job, your horrible, _disgusting_ job.

"I want to join," she says, still with her head bent back but her arms have dropped down and lay on her lap peacefully. when she lowers her eyes, she watches you intensly.

"You _know_ that. So why didn't you tell me they were open?"

"They're not open."

an indignat look crosses her face as she hardens her expression. " _Yes_. They are."

you sigh and correct your posture, readying to inform her.

"Don't." she says bitterly, lip curled up in irritation. She stands up as you open your mouth to speak, " _Don't_!" she repeats, holding a finger up with wide eyes. "I know that tone and that expression. You're going to say something about how _stupid_ I am to like the show."

you frown, "no, i would never call you stupid."

"you never _say_ it, but i can feel it whenever you talk to me."

"no! that's wrong. Emiko..."

She simply shakes her head again, her lips firmly in a grimace. Her eyes are hollow as she regards you in an empty sort of irritation. She doesn't have to say anything more for you to know she's frustrated beyond words, if she were to say something it'd likely end up in a yelling match. so, instead, she leaves the room.


	19. IX

**July** **17th**

**5:20am**

**Why is it so hard to explain?**

**I'm scared of dying, she isn't. Well, I hope she actually is, deep inside somewhere, but her admiartion of these fakers has twisted her into thinking their world is perfect and good and all sorts of wonderful things.**

**Why does she trust them more than me? Her sister? I know we... don't always get along perfectly, I know we fight and argue... but that's what siblings do, right? All siblings have arguements about their interests, right?**

**It sounds so normal, but is it when she wants nothing more than to enter a death game with no winning?**


	20. n i n e

"do you want to watch any of the auditions?"

you halt your actions, eyes glued to the sheet of paper below. Then slowly you lift your chin and regard them. They're not _new_ , but they are new to _you_. either you've always managed to miss them, or they've been avoiding you.

it's not strange for you to familiarise yourself with whoever HR hires, but lately things have been slipping your mind, so it could be that you've met before, even _more_ than once and you have no recollection.

Still, they really should _know_ by now...someone should have told them...

"No."

Even though it's said without malice or hate for the person themself, they flinch away. they open their mouth to reply, holding up the clipboard in their hands before they lower it and stand there.

of course, maybe they _weren't_ told of how you consider this show, then it really isn't _their_ fault to be so oblivious. but still, some part of you is annoyed that they couldn't realise it themselves, is it really that hard to understand that not everyone adores this pathetic show?

"Oh, alright."

they look away, back at the screens displayed all over the wall. All but one is switched off. it shows a blank room with wooden floor, the camera facing in one area where the audition partipant should stand and face it. right now, it's empty. as hollow as you feel when watching someone cry because their favourite ' _character'_ died. do they really not realise ( _they dont_ )?

the characters they are so enamoured with are _real_ people, not their original selves of course, but still real humans nonetheless. the character part doesn't _exist_ , but the ' _alive_ ' part certainly does.

"i just thought... you might have wanted to taken part... maybe be the conductor of this next one?"

they twist around to watch you, before shaking their head and muttering something about ' _ignore me_ ' as they pull the mic closer to their mouth. they hold down the button beside it, watching the screen and speaking into the mic.

"participant number 5 please enter,"

and on the screen, the purple haired boy wanders in, looking around himself anxiously.

the chair squeals as you stand up quickly and stumble out of it, sprinting from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise the pace and plot will get better soon, sorry for the slow and somewhat boring last few chapters <3


	21. t e n

the waiting room is full of people, full of people waiting to be interviewed. there's roughly fifty seats, and each one is taken. your eyes wander around, tracing over each face before moving onto someone else. In turn, they glance over your figure. some confused, some expectant and some blandly ignoring you.

you suppose some of those here may have auditioned multiple times and know how it works, but if you think about that a little more you'd realise their faces are too young to have been waiting each year.

and since every year, the participants depend on the survivors age, everyone in this room is the same age.

"do you work here?" a meek looking girl asks, her eyes wide and curious. she has her brown hair freely flowing over her shoulders as she sits at the edge of the seat, impatient or nervous.

without answering her, you move through the crowd and towards the back door, ignoring the jump of your heart at all their eyes. you don't even know _why_ you're here, be honest. you have no idea why you're quickly approaching the room. which is why once you've placed your hand on the door to push it open, you hesitate and turn back. pace even faster, shoulders hunched and tight now that you feel foolish.

"Uum do you work here?" the girl repeats, her voice slightly louder as she inches closer off the seat, trying to make you look at her as she watches you intensely. "...my friend is in there."

and then your eyes fall on her beautiful red eyes that glimmer under the light of the room. maybe its the erraticness of your thoughts, maybe its the way she bites her bottom lip, maybe its because everyone is _watching_ and _scrutinising_ you—

"come." you tell her, not stopping. she makes a surprised little noise, chair scraping as she jumps up and follows without any more question. the sound of her breaths and footsteps are silent, or maybe you're not focused enough on _Now_ to notice them.

"Ey, whys she gettin' to go in some spe'shal room?"

again, they'll be getting no answer from you.

in return, there's some irritated voices and scoffs, soft disgruntled sighs and exhales of relief.

"so cool..."

"ha, i know rite?"

"how long have you been a fan?"

"since i was born, my parents were avid watchers."

"wait! Would they have been around for-?"

"Nah, sorry excuses of parents they are, except

for the fact that they got me into this. but gotta give em'

some respect, i dunno if anyones still alive from the very

first games."

"...haha... so cool,"

you scowl.


	22. e l e v e n

"Excuse me." another voice tugs at your attention, standing right beside you. You turn to them, another kid here to audition stands there with a neutral expression. they stare at you with resolve, yet indifferent to your cold scan. "We wish to accompany you,"

they make no move to introduce themselves, but at that another kid scampers towards them and stares at you big eyes. She's so short you really do believe she must be too young to audition, but then the purple haired boy flits through your mind.

"I am..." they start, then firmly clamp their mouth shut, "My name is not important. But we are all friends of Kokichi Oma, the boy who is being interviewed right now." they shut their eyes, "We wish to make sure he is alright."

You scan over the small crowd amassing around you. "We are an official organisation. I assure you our methods are professional and up to all current standards and regulations."

Yet, they don't budge. Neither do the girls, the red-head of which straightens up and folds her arms, "boy, this is taking forever. When is he gonna come out?" she looks to you, her eyes dull. then she rolls them and flicks a hand up into the air to readjust the piece of hair which has fallen in front of her eye, "I need a trim,"

she says to nobody but herself. Then she rolls the thought around in her head, "...we should all get makeovers before the show, to look interesting. then we'd be more likely to get picked as protagonist, yeah?"

The brown haired girl cranes her neck, eyes shimmery in hope and voice sweet in excitement, "Really?"

"Your... ' _character_ ' designs are not up to you," you quickly interject before they can continue thinking thats how things work. "However, your ideas will be considered before the final design is selected. please, follow me."

the girls shoulders slump, but the white haired kid doesn't waver, still staring at you. but they're the first to follow when you continue walking, which makes the rest come, to your semi-relief and semi-chagrin.

you know that the purple haired boy isn't this way, _they_ would know that too, considering they saw him enter the door in the waiting but But thankfully they silently follow you, except for the girls quiet mutterings of discontentment. they're easier to deal with than whoever was staring at you back in the midst of it all, it was likely more than one person. but their comments and the way they stared...

_is no different to normal_ , you tell yourself. You're completely used to people finding out you work with Team Danganronpa and them becoming absolutely obsessed with learning more (' _Can you really watch from every single camera_?!' ' _No_.' [ _you can_ ]). so, really then, there is nothing different and frightening about them.

when you push open the door and hold it open for them to enter, your co-worker looks up with an odd expression. they open their mouth to says something then decide against it and wait. the girls duck their heads in appreciation, while their companion offers to keep the door open. giving them a blank look is enough for them to slip past and into the room.

"I saw you scurry off in a panic, so I asked to give us a moment." your colleague explains, flicking their finger to the screen where the boy stands awkwardly.

he wrings his hands, gaze darting up to the camera every now and then.

"thank you, it was not necessary." then you address the small group you've collected, "he is there, and he is fine. as I told you he would be. but since I've made you come this whole way, you may watch his audition." then you gesture to the seats, leaving them to choose what they'll do before approaching the panel.

your colleague inches away, making a ' _go ahead_ ' sign. then you press down the unmute button and pull the mic to your mouth.

"We may continue now. please tell us a little about yourself."

He blinks, surprisingly firm as he furrows his brows to squint at the camera, "aren't you... the person i talked to the other day?"

with an indignant cast of your eyes at your coworker and a disgusted curl of your lip, you continue, "That is of _no_ importance. please state some facts about yourself."

Screwing up his nose, he begins, "Um... I'm Kokichi Oma. I've always been a fan of Danganronpa, especially all the protagonists!" he smiles at that, gaining his confidence, "being in a world where you have to... fight against despair... it's _exactly_ the type of world I'd like to live in!" he nods, "uh, yeah... even if something happened to me... I think I'd be okay with it."

his eyes flicker with some fear, then he shuts them and steadies himself, "of course, I want to win the game, too! because that's what it means to be a Danganronpa protagonist! i'll never give into despair, no matter what happens!"

"Alright, thank you very much. you may exit now," you say idly, glancing behind you where his supposed friends stand.

maybe you made a mistake bringing them here, you don't even know if they truly _are_ his friends or if that was a lie. surely you can do better than everything you've been doing recently. switching mics, "participant number 6, please enter."

the boy you've now learned to be Kokichi departs from the room with one sparing look back into the camera.

turning around to the others, you cross your arms, "well, are you satisfied? I hope you have the mind not to have come here if you were participant 6."

"No, we're... none of us are number 6," the brown haired girl says quietly, her eyes darting from the screen to your colleague back to you, "do we... He didn't mention _us_."

" _And_ he said he doesn't care if something bad happens!" the red head exclaims, flinging her arms up in irritation, "i swear i'll curse him for that!"

"it is not our place to confine him to our same standards," the white haired kid notes, "then, we will be leaving. thank you...?"

"It's not important." you fire back, gesturing to the door, "can you find your way back?"

"Of course."

the three leave quickly, and you let your shoulders drop. on screen, someone else stands and fiddles with their clothes. casting a look to your colleague, you sink into a seat and allow them to take the rest of the auditions. watching on as the first 20 people of the day are interviewed.

it'll be a week of this, then deciding who is being chosen will extend for possibly even longer. there's background checks to be done, and then getting them all to agree to the terms. of course, none of them will read it all or think too deeply about it. it's overshadowed by their excitement.

crossing your legs, you watch as a blonde haired girl enters next, her outfit dark blue and eyes misty with exhaustion.


End file.
